


exchanges

by Jupiter_Queen



Category: 6teen
Genre: Drabble Series, F/M, basically smut, hella smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiter_Queen/pseuds/Jupiter_Queen
Summary: All of him in exchange for all of her? Fair enough. (Drabbles and one-shots.)





	1. bite me

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was originally published to fanfiction.net in 2016 and 2017, but I'm gonna start uploading the newer drabbles on here too.
> 
> Warning: My usual and then some. Yikes. Also, the characters in this are 18 just to avoid any iffy implications.

He didn't know she liked pain.

Didn't know she loved the bruises that good loving could bring her.

Never knew that whenever she hissed, "Bite me," she would one day mean it literally.

Only, instead of hissing it to those she abhorred, she would moan it in his ear, turning him on beyond belief.

And he would do it for her and her reaction would be so euphoric.

He remembered being so scared to experiment with pain under the sheets, scared that he would hurt her.

"Jonesy, I trust you," she had said, cozying up in his lap and wrapping her arms around him. "I'm not fragile; you're not gonna break me."

"I don't know, babe. You sure about this?"

His expression still conflicted, she caressed his cheek and kissed his lips hard.

"Oh, I'm  _very_  sure." That sentence and the smoldering look she gave after they parted made him change his mind, made him reconsider.

He gradually took control of her hips, rocked her back and forth in his lap, grabbed her without abandon, sunk his fingertips into her, claimed her. She sighed before coaxing him to go further.

"You know you want to slap my ass," she panted, her face flushed with pink. "So do it, dammit. Hit it. Hit  _me_. Give me something to think about tomorrow. Make me think about what you do to me  _all day_."

So he finally did it, sending his palm against her flesh with no regrets.

And he'd be damned if the way she fiercely moaned didn't make him want to be lost in that moment forever.

So he did it again and again, hitting and grabbing tightly, leaving red marks and knowing it sent her over the edge and into the abyss.

He left her breathless and awestruck, thrashing in his lap; the only word she could muster was  _oh_.

And he fell into that same abyss.


	2. another level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published on fanfiction.net in 2016.

Sex was for playing with lust and fire.

Jonesy hopped into bed with pretty-faced girls after one date, barely knowing their name. Or during a party, not knowing their name at all. Hell, they didn't even have to know his. He just wanted them to remember the face that gave them momentary pleasure.

Essentially, if the girl smiled, breathed, and had a fat ass, he would pursue her.

Until Nikki came along.

She would not be seduced into bed so easily. He had to earn her love and affection and the right to see her beneath the sheets. He had to prove himself to be a benefit in her life before she would even  _consider_  letting him spend the night. (Although much tamer sleepovers spent making out were much appreciated.)

She was such a tease, so hard to get, so unwilling to cave so easily.

Which is why the moment she said, "I'm ready," meant so much.

 _She_  meant so much. She was worth the wait.

Getting to run his hands along the curves of her body and kiss her thighs and lick her breasts was so satisfying when she made him work for it all along.

Hearing her moan, "I love you," was the most satisfying sound he'd ever heard.

Sex was on another level with her.

Making her toes curl and skin flush and eyes roll (for non-sarcastic reasons) gave him so much ecstasy.

With Nikki, there was no running off before the sun rose.

If anything, she kept him coming back and staying for the night.


	3. payback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published in 2016.

Nikki held onto her bed frame, sharply exhaling.

" _Jonesy_ ," she crooned to the boyfriend between her legs.

He merely groaned, continuing to lick and savour her like his favorite ice cream.

She closed her eyes and felt his hands go from massaging the back of her thighs to gripping the curves of her hips.

"Just like that," she called down to him before his phone rang on her nightstand. A smirk appeared on her face and, soon enough, she reached over to see who was calling. She pressed "Accept Call" upon seeing a familiar name on the screen. "Hey, Jude. What's up?" she asked, collecting her voice so she wouldn't sound so breathy.

"Oh, hey, Nikki! Nothin' much. Is Jonesy hangin' around? Wanted to make sure we're still on for game night."

She licked her lips and gazed at the head between her thighs. "He's downstairs eating breakfast right now, but I can tell him you— _ah_ —called." A sudden lick along her core sent her jolting.

"Everything alright?" Jude asked, concern in his voice.

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine," she said, her tone perturbed. "Something on TV just took me by surprise."

"Oh, okay," he said, more at ease and none the wiser. "Well, I guess I can hit Jonesy up later."

"I'll definitely have him call you back, Jude," she said, feeling more pressure at her center.

"Peace out, bra."

"Later!" she exclaimed with a faltering voice, eager to throw Jonesy's phone aside and revel in his skills. "Fuck," she muttered over and over again as he squeezed her bottom and lapped her up.

He purred, knowing she was dangerously close.

Her hips gyrated in circles, eager for release. Her back arched and her head tilted back.

"Jonesy…  _fuck_ ," she moaned while he refused to let up.

After her body trembled through the last aftershocks, he released his grip on her and she moved, resting beside him.

"Rude," she teased as she caught her breath.

"Hey, you're the one who answered my phone. Had to get you back somehow," Jonesy said with a cocky grin. "By the way, what did Jude want?"

"He didn't know whether you and him were still on for game night or not."

"Definitely; I'll text him and let him know…" He rolled over and almost reached for his phone before stopping in his tracks. "Actually, I'll hit him back a little later."

"How come?" Nikki asked with a raised eyebrow.

He tackled her to the bed. "Because I'm not finished with you yet, baby."

A sultry smile graced her lips. "Oh, really?"

Running his fingers along her thighs, he said, " _Yes_ , really. You're still not off the hook for taking my phone."

"Gotta teach me a lesson, I see."

Slipping a finger between her legs, he smiled and said, "Exactly. This is what happens when you take my stuff."

She sighed as he worked wonders inside her. "In that case, I'll never stop taking what's yours."

"So don't."


	4. everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Bruises, just because they probably trigger some people.
> 
> This can be considered a sequel of "bite me," I suppose. It definitely flirts with the pain-in-pleasure concept.

Nikki looked at herself in the mirror.

She stared at the small pale lilac area on her neck. Ghosting her fingers over it, a warm smile spread across her lips. She could almost feel Jonesy's lips pressing against it, his tongue licking it, his teeth grazing along it. She breathed deeply.

A similar one appeared on her shoulder, luckily where the strap of her tank top would be. She recalled his soft lips trailing along her skin, leaving no area without a kiss.

Behind the cup of her bra, begging to peek through, was a bite mark, a subtle red hue from last night. He took the swell of her breast into his mouth and, following her heated command, sunk his teeth into her—hard enough where her nerves said ow but pleasurable enough where she moaned oh.

She smirked and absentmindedly ran her hands over her thighs. Though there weren't any marks on them, she knew he still adored them all the same. All his kisses and licks and caresses were enough for her.

Turning her back towards the mirror and looking to examine the rear of her body, she grew hot just looking at the red areas on her bottom. Her smirk grew devilish as she thought about the way his palm struck her flesh over and over again. With every smack, he kept asking her if she liked it like that and she replied that—hell yeah—she did. The way he grabbed at her and smacked her and made her gasp got her so high.

She moaned at the thought just as the bedroom door opened.

"Thinking of me, baby?" Jonesy asked as he strolled towards her.

She ran her index finger up and down his chest. "Thinking about you and what you do to me."

He grabbed her by the waist, leaning over and brushing his lips against hers. "And what exactly do I do to you?" he whispered.

"Everything."

Their lips met in a fierce kiss as she anticipated him marking her up some more. She lived for it.

Rubbing his back as they made out, her mind pondered the marks her nails constantly left on his back, wherein she left him groaning out her name and giving him a rush of adrenaline.

Briefly parting from his lips, she teased, "I want everything from you right now… if you can give it to me."

He grinned and it made her melt. "I'll give you all I've got, babe."

She grinned back. "Well? I'm waiting."

He practically tackled her to the bed and, between all the kisses and groping and biting, he proceeded to show her everything and more.


	5. speechless

Nikki was the queen of always having something to say. Her mouth was full of witty insights, sarcastic remarks, earnest advice, and satirical commentary. She always knew what to say and when to say it, even if it meant that she came across blunt, outspoken, or abrasive.

But Jonesy was the king of shutting her up, often joking of how whenever she climaxed, she'd get so speechless. He was the only person who could ever get her to hush.

Whenever he descended upon her, giving her lips kisses and licks, her mind was stunned, at a loss for words. She went from having an expansive vocabulary to being reduced to the most basic sounds in the alphabet.

" _Oh_ ," she would pant over and over again as she clutched his head, writhing at the feel of him and his warm mouth.

Other times, she could only latch onto the most explicit words. She didn't have the time to croon an epic poem to him about how he made her see stars. She kept it short and sweet.

"Ah,  _fuck_ ," she would moan as he pinned her to his bedroom wall, giving her something that made her forget how to speak.

He sent her into a daze, scrambling her vast lexicon into something so simple and urgent.

Sometimes she wouldn't say anything at all. After her back arched and hips rolled, she would breathe deeply and gather her thoughts, making sure she could find the right sentence to describe to him how he made her feel. And, until she did, she would remain speechless.


	6. all talk

"You look incredible tonight, babe," Jonesy's honeyed voice whispered into Nikki's ear. He wasn't trying to flatter her with an exaggeration; the truth fell from his lips. Her jean jacket may have obscured her distressed crop-top, but he could still see that irresistible belly-button piercing of hers. Those hip-hugging pants she wore caught his eye, too.

Taking her eyes off Wyatt's band performing, Nikki glanced at her boyfriend, briefly looking him up and down. "Thanks, Casanova. You don't look half-bad yourself."

As her attention went back to the stage and she continued clapping to the rhythm, he smirked at her. "Well, since we both look good tonight with our clothes  _on_ , I wonder how much better we'd look with them  _off_."

With a half-grin, she asked, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Yeah, I  _would_." He gently grabbed her by the waist, swaying her side to side with the music. "I'd also like to suck all on your neck, kiss the hell out of your lips, and bite your shoulders up."

She snorted, teasing, "You know it takes more than that to make me wet."

"Oh, I  _know_  very well."

"Then you'd know I want you to go down on me very, very slowly. So slow that it's annoying and I can't take it anymore and beg you to go faster until you finally get me off.  _That's_  what I want."

Her shallow breathing and sighs and other bedroom habits of hers filled his mind as he spoke. "Mmm, I wanna make your legs tremble, babe. And I want you to scream how much you love me."

"Only if you pound it out of me," she dared above the indie rock music in the air.

"I'm more than down to do that," he said, grinding her hips and bottom against his groin. "I might even hit it with your legs over my shoulders."

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she turned around and looked up at him. "Oh, I can't  _wait_  to go home after this."

"Home?" he asked, his eyes cutting down at her. "I was thinking we could start in the car. Maybe now if you're down for it."

"But Wyatt's still playing," she said, "and all our friends are still here."

"I know," he purred. "They won't care if we left a little early."

Her mind weighed through the options. They could stay here and let the mood burn until the end of the show, hop in the car, and rush to jump each other in bed.  _Or_  they could leave without their friends knowing, go into a frenzy in the backseat of their car, and continue what they started at home.  _All night long_.

After pondering it for a couple seconds, Nikki latched onto Jonesy's wrist and led him through the crowd.

He feigned surprise. "Whoa, babe—where are you going so fast?"

"I'm taking you to the car. You're fucking me in the backseat." Before Jonesy could get a word in, she added, "And then I'm fucking  _you_  at home."

"Babe, you're the best," he said as they exited the venue together.

With a suggestive look in her eyes, she replied, "I like the sound of that. Say that when I'm riding your brains out."


	7. nightride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is meant to be disjointed, hazy, surreal, and seductive. It's heavily influenced by the vibes I get from Tinashe's song "Spacetime" from her absolutely ethereal album Nightride. (Anyone who follows me on tumblr knows that I'm a Tinashe stan.)

Jonesy had a habit of sneaking into Nikki's bedroom on the weekends, but it was alright because Nikki had a habit of letting him in through her balcony. Maybe they wanted more skin-to-skin contact than their date nights had to offer. Maybe they desired a longer, sweeter taste of one another.

He couldn't help that he felt lost in space whenever her legs ensnared his waist. He could have sworn she was a warm and wet dream before he quickly realized she was his warm and wet reality. There was no dreaming with her—this was real life for him, no matter how surreal it felt.

He lost track of time with her, always. His concept of seconds, minutes, and hours grew hazy as he spent eons swimming in that ocean of hers. She was practically dripping for him. Her loving caused him to forget the existence of the outside world.

She could only marvel at how fast time went by. One day, he was her best friend. The next he became her lover. And tonight he rode her so breathtakingly she could see stars. With every thrust, he took her higher and higher. She only grew more turned on when he coaxed her legs wider, getting deeper into her. He gripped her hips so alluringly, his fingertips pressing into her skin getting a divine moan out of her.

She could have sworn her bedroom was spinning. Shit, maybe it was. This nightride of theirs was damn near a lucid dream, a bend in her grip on reality. One hand gripped the sheets and the other draped splayed onto his back as he sent her rocking and writhing underneath him.

Their moans and deep breaths acted as the soundtrack to this sporadic, unreal attempt at showing each other good love for the night. The kind of love that made her legs sore in the morning. The kind of love that left her with the memories of him lighting her body aflame. The kind of love that gave her an intense, indescribable feeling.

And, as their hips rolled in sync, Nikki couldn't resist crying out for him, just as he throatily uttered her name. She couldn't think about anything else but the feeling welling inside of her, causing her to shut her eyes tight and tremble with satisfaction.

And throughout this high, they both couldn't help but marvel at this being real life.


	8. got you

Nikki's hips grinded in Jonesy's lap, gyrating around and around in slow circles. He held onto her waist, her movements causing long groans to fall from his lips.

" _Baaaabe_ ," he dragged out, resting against the back of the couch while she worked him out. His eyes were half-lidded as he moaned for her.

She reclined against him, her back resting against his chest as she tossed her hips around his groin.

"What's wrong, loverboy?" she asked breathily. "Cat got your tongue?"

"The cat's got way more than my tongue, Nik," he said, a purr punctuating his sentence.

"Mmm, I can imagine," she replied, still swirling her hips around in his lap. She made a noise of content when his hands moved from her waist to her chest, grabbing both her breasts.

"Oh, baby, you're the best," he moaned, giving her a title that no other person had (in his eyes). Couldn't she see that she drove him mad?

"I don't mind hearing that again."

Never mind, she already knew. "You're the best, baby," he repeated, one hand steady on her breast, the other wandering down to where their two bodies met.

"That's more like it," she said before her breath hitched in her throat. When she finally caught her breath,  _fuck_  escaped her lips.

"Looks like I got you now, Nik."

Her eyes damn near rolled all the way back. "Mmhmm," she barely managed to say.

It only enticed him to toy with her further. The more he played with her, the more her hips bucked and spasmed in his lap until she sharply gasped.

Eventually, he found himself at a loss for his breath, too—they knew so well how the other got off and he was mesmerized.

"Damn, baby," he said afterwards, his chest heaving up and down with breath. "You felt amazing."

She still remained starry-eyed, at a loss for words. " _Oh_."

He smirked at her silence. "What's wrong, Nik? Jonesmeister got your tongue?"


	9. what's my name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty vulgar—at least for my standards—but it's actually my fave, lol. Go figure.

Jonesy has Nikki on her elbows and knees, throwing her ass back against him while he grips her hips.

He loves viewing her as he takes her from behind. Her wild, purple hair brushes against her shoulders and back. Her hands grip her dorm-room sheets for support. Her back curves, her muscles flex with every thrust. Her ass begs for his fingertips to sink into her skin.

Even more appealing are the sounds she makes when he pushes into her. So critical, so carnal, so content. Sometimes she mutters  _fuck_ ; sometimes she moans without restraint. All of it is worth hearing.

His lips form a cocky grin as he listens to her moaning.

In a husky voice, he asks, "Who's your daddy?"

She breathily laughs. "Not you."

Though he can't see her face, he can  _hear_  her smirk. He knows she loves to toy with him.

He smacks her on the rear, getting a rise out of her. "What about now?"

Another laugh. "Still a no."

His palm hits her again, making her whimper. "I better be now."

Her voice drips with seduction as she taunts him. "Slap my ass again and I just might say it." He does as she wishes, making her cry out. " _Ah_."

"Aren't you forgetting something, baby?"

She plays coy. "Am I?"

"Yeah." He knows she's been teasing him—her specialty—briefly stringing him along so she can get what she wants. It's manipulative and mischievous and making him want to do some nasty things to her. "So if I'm not your daddy, then who am I? Who's beating it up right now, baby?" When he pops her on the ass again, he continues, "Huh? Who's beating that pussy up?"

She sighs. "You are, Casanova."

"Damn right. What's my name, Nik?"

" _Jones_."

He smacks her ass. "What's my name, baby?" He wants her to wear it out like the way she wears his t-shirts to bed, wants it to roll off her tongue in the most pleasured voice, wants to hear that he's the only one she wants. "What's my name?"

" _Jonesy_."

"Good girl. Say it again."

With every strike to her rear, she moans it again and again, her tone filled with conviction.

"That's my girl."

He pushes into her deeper and faster, the otherwise quiet room filling with the noise of two bodies colliding.

Her voice grows louder than ever, panting and whimpering with every motion, yelping his name when he tugs on her hair.

His fingers grab at her reddened ass, coaxing her faster and faster.

"Jonesy— _oh_ —I'm almost there," she says as her voice trembles.

So is he. He can feel himself getting ready to explode, getting ready to give his all to his girlfriend.

In seconds, she reaches her peak, her legs trembling and on fire, not unlike the sensation burning in her lower abdomen.

The way she tightens and squeezes around him causes him to slam his hips into hers one last time. His head tilts back as a husky moan creeps out his throat.

They're left with ragged breathing, with a desperate need for oxygen after a moment so heated.

Both of them collapse onto the bed, chests heaving as they look toward the ceiling. Nikki crawls on top of him moments later, her expression pleased.

His lips curl into a satisfied grin. "Damn, I love fucking you."

"And?" she asks, waiting for the follow-up she wants to hear.

"And I fucking love you, Nikki."

She rewards him with a kiss on the lips. " _That's_  more like it."


	10. for the high

While nobody was home—a miracle in itself—Jonesy decided to experiment with Nikki.

After hearing Jude talk about one of the best things he ever tried in his life—"Two words:  _High. Sex_."—Jonesy grew curious. Jude said smoking a blunt or eating an edible with somebody you're crazy about was one of life's best-kept secrets, so Jonesy thought,  _Why not try it with Nikki?_

This brought them to where they were now. The two of them sat atop his bed, naked, with Nikki rolling up a joint. She sealed the rolling paper by running her tongue over it.

Satisfied with the way she rolled it, she cut her eyes at Jonesy and smirked at him. Wordlessly, she put the joint in her mouth, leaning towards him so he could set it ablaze.

His lighter burned the end of it. She took a drawn-out hit from it, shotgunning the smoke into his mouth.

He purred. "That  _really_  turns me on when you do that, babe."

"I know." She made bedroom eyes at him while handing him the joint. "That's why I do it."

He gazed at her while he took a hit. Smoke rolled out of his mouth and dissipated into the air.

* * *

They abandoned the concept of time when the high set in.

All he could remember was feeling  _everything_  at  _every_   _moment_. The slightest shift in her hips. Wet heat. Her nails scratching up and down his back. Tightening. The vibration of her moans against his mouth. Warm skin. The way her tongue felt against him.

Every action was prolonged and pleasurable and perfect.

From his recollection, he made her feel  _everything_  in every position imaginable. On her back. On her side. On top of him. On her knees. On his bed. On his carpet. He couldn't count how many times she came, but, judging by the uninhibited way she called his name over and over and over again, he figured it happened a  _lot_.

By the time they'd stopped, his bed was a mess of pillows and stained sheets and two satisfied lovers.

* * *

"Holy  _fuck_ ," he panted. "That was some next-level shit."

"I'm not gonna be able to walk straight for days."

"We've  _got_  to do this shit again someday."

"Agreed."


	11. itches to scratch

She wouldn't deny that she had itches to scratch. She felt no shame in it. She was human after all.

She knew it was natural to be overwhelmed with feelings that made her want to get off.

It was an escape, a relief. She treasured her sex life with Jonesy, but being in bed by herself reminded Nikki that she was very much in charge of her own pleasure. She could reach her itch and scratch as much as she wanted to, scratch until she convulsed with satisfaction.

Even if that meant spending some nights with just her body and her own two hands. Even if it meant fantasizing about Jason from DawgToy and arching her back alone. Even if it meant putting hypnotizing, breathtaking thoughts of her boyfriend on repeat.

_That boy drives me so crazy_ , she often thought with love as she got off.

With her own touch, she breathed just as deeply, moaned just as much, came just as hard as any sexual encounter she had with him.

She had a body of her own, hands that wouldn't quit, and a deep itch to scratch.


	12. places to go

Jonesy’s mouth is the eighth wonder of the world—at least, as far as Nikki is concerned.

Everything about it entrances her.

His teeth shine so bright when he smiles at her. She didn’t know a man could make her melt from his grin alone until she got with him.

His lips know how to kiss her so well. They press against her own in ways which make her moan with pleasure. They suck on her neck so divinely, sometimes threatening to leave her with hickeys she has to cover the next morning. His lips treat her just as he tenderly as does (unless she demands him to be rough with her).

His tongue is a _phenomenon_. When it slips betwixt her lips, mingling with her own tongue, it makes her feel warm; it makes her pulse. When it swirls around and around between her thighs, she nearly passes out from the pleasure. He laps her up like she’s made of honey, like he’ll die without tasting her. She knows that face-riding is not a form of transportation, but it might as well count if his tongue takes her places.

Shit, _he_ takes her places.


	13. compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not that farfetched that Nikki likes to be choked, right?

Jonesy frowned. "I don't wanna hurt you, babe."

"And you're  _not_ ," Nikki insisted. "I just want to get a little lightheaded, that's all."

"But what if I mess up by choking you too hard and you pass out or something?" he asked, panic invading his voice. "I don't want you to die while we're fucking!"

"I'd never let it get to that point, Jones," she said, walking towards him and stroking his cheek. "I'm not asking for hardcore BDSM. I just wanted to try something new that would get me off, but—if you don't want to do it—that's fine."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Okay."

* * *

That wave of relief he felt before? It died when he looked down at her, noticing the lack of excitement in her brown eyes as he thrusted in and out of her.

 _Damn_ , he thought,  _she must_ _really_   _want me to try this choking shit with her_.

It's not that he didn't like them mixing pain and pleasure during sex. He loved the way she bit his neck. He loved eliciting passionate cries from her as he spanked her, leaving her ass with a faint tint of red. He adored yanking on her hair when he took her from behind.

Choking, however, was another subject. Though getting freaky with her was always on his to-do list, he didn't want to damn near  _kill her_  during sex.

But seeing her dissatisfied instead of pleasured stomped on his ego.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought. If she wanted it, then he'd do it to her. He'd do it  _for_  her.

Before she could register what he was doing, he'd already placed his palm against her neck, letting his fingers grip the sides of her neck.

Enthusiasm lit up her face, making him smile.

"Harder, Casanova."

He did as she commanded, asking, "Is this good, babe?"

Barely above a whisper, she said, "Never felt better."

After minutes of alternating between choking her and letting go so she could catch her breath, he'd never seen her come harder.


	14. a fire and an ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I haven’t published one of these in ages, here’s a one-shot. Hope you enjoy!

After she walked into their apartment kitchen and grabbed a drink from the fridge, Nikki turned to Jonesy with a furrowed brow. "I could have paid for it myself."

"So  _me_  wanting to help you pay for your trip makes me a shitty fiancé, huh?"

"Exactly  _when_  did I say you were shitty? You always take shit out of context, Jones." She crossed her arms. "I'm not upset that you paid; I'm upset because I've literally been saving money for this for years. This is something I wanted to do myself. Independent of you."

"So what are you saying? You don't  _need_  me or something?"

She groaned. "Wow, there you go ignoring any sort of context  _again_. You know I have hobbies and interests that exist outside of you. In fact, they existed  _long_  before you. Is it too much to realize that I like doing things for myself, by myself, and  _because_  of myself?" Before he could retort, she replied, "Besides, shouldn't you of all people be happy that I'm telling you to  _save_ money? Keep it in your account, put it into getting your car fixed, or—if you really want to help me with something—use it for our wedding reception."

"No, let me help you go on your trip. It's  _my_  money, and this is what I'm choosing to do with it. I want to do this for  _you_."

"For fuck's sake, why are you so stubborn?"

"Well, why do  _you_  have to be so fucking cold? It's not the end of the world if a guy tries to help you, Nik—especially if that guy's  _me_."

He thought she was frigid? Noted. Nevertheless, she pushed aside his jab and said, "I appreciate that you're here, but I like having my own identity."

"Me helping you doesn't make you less of a woman. Y'know, I like to be needed for more than just love and dick."

"Don't act like I reduce you to just two things, Jones. You're my best friend, so there's the emotional support." She raised her left hand, pointing at the jewelry on her ring finger. "We're engaged; that's  _romantic_. We fuck every other night; that's sexual. And—would you look at that?—we live together. That's financial."

He remained silent for a few moments; she knew she'd bested him. Of course, once he opened his mouth again, this led to another defensive statement.

"Fine. Go on your stupid trip without me then. I'll be here like I always am."

"So  _that's_  what this is really about, huh? You're mad because you're not going, and you feel abandoned because I won't let you contribute?"

He huffed, but opted for silence.

"Answer me, Jonesy."

He crossed his arms and looked away.

"Well, I'm  _waiting_."

"I couldn't be with you in Nunavut, I couldn't be with you on your study-abroad trips, and I can't be with you now on  _this_  trip. I get it—traveling's one of your dreams, but, damn, can't  _we_ go on a trip sometime? Or am I not part of your dream, Nik?"

"Jonesy," she started, then sighed. "You know I didn't want to go to Nunavut. And you know studying abroad was good for my major. And you  _know_  that you're a part of my future, so stop acting like a fucking child and talk to me instead of passive-aggressive-guilt-tripping me. I'm trying to be your wife, not a babysitter."

He walked into the living room in silence.

"Wow, so that's how you're handling this. Real mature, asshat."

"And it's  _super_  mature of you to call me names in the process," he retorted.

She gestured her arms towards him. "And now he speaks."

"Yeah," he said as he sat down on the couch. "Now leave me alone. I wanna watch TV… by myself… because I can do things  _independent_  of you."

She took a seat next to him. "No. We're talking until we straighten this out, because I'm not gonna listen to you snark at me the rest of the day."

"Good luck getting that to happen," he replied, grabbing the remote and turning on the television just to spite her.

She snatched it from him and turned it off. "Oh, it's gonna happen. Or else."

"Or else what?" he asked, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

* * *

He didn't like the cold? Fine, she would give him fire. She would give it to him in the worst way.

She couldn't think straight. All she felt was frustrated and hellbent on fucking him into ceasefire. Her legs would hate her later, but she lived for the burn.

Clothes lay scattered on the floor, misplaced (just like any of their feelings deeper than anger and desire).

Shaky breaths, mumbled swears, and skin slapping against skin reverberated throughout their living room.

She rode his lap hard.

 _Fuck_ , she hated that he stoked small fires within her. She hated how they turned into a sprawling wildfire and consumed her. She hated wanting to yell at him one moment and then yell his name the next. She hated that, despite how he relentlessly annoyed her, she wanted to fuck the soul out of him.

She dug her blunt nails into his back, dragging them up and down against his balmy skin. Though they weren't long or sharp enough to make him bleed, she figured scratches would suffice.

His hands clawed at her ass, coaxing her to go faster.

 _Selfish motherfucker_ , she thought as the couch cushions sunk with every swift motion. He always managed to jump on her nerves, crawl under her skin, and slide between her legs. It's like his sole purposes were to piss her off and fuck her thoroughly.

All the blame and anger couldn't be placed on him, though. She wasn't ignorant—she let him in. Perhaps she didn't want a love that was easy and quiet. Despite the turbulence it caused her, maybe she liked it raucous and boisterous.

He rubbed his palm over her behind while she screwed away his last sliver of sense. Then he slapped it, making her cry out in his ear.

She snaked her hand between them, rubbing herself in quick circles, trying to get herself to a better place sooner. Moments passed. A pleasant sensation overtook her, leaving her quaking in his lap.

But he wasn't finished with her.

While she erupted, he switched his hold on her, stood up with her in his arms, and laid her on the couch. Her head still spun, but she knew his hedonistic ass wasn't done.

He nestled himself between her legs again, thrusting fast and—after grabbing her calf and pushing her leg back—going deeper.

"You like that?" Jonesy panted while rushing in and out of her. She knew it wasn't a question, but rather a taunt. In fact, it was a flex.

She moaned repeatedly, unable to respond.

"Huh? You like that?"

" _Yes_ ," she rasped. "Oh, fuck—  _Yes_."

"Good girl."

Sex was the only time he got away with saying shit like that. He should have been grateful it made her slick.

" _Shit_ , you're so fucking wet."

Good thing he noticed. "Drown in it, motherfucker."

"Talking shit, huh?"

"Yeah, so shut up and  _mmph_ …"

He cut her off with an ardent, messy kiss. She quickly responded to it, parting her lips to accommodate his tongue. Moments later, he broke the kiss to focus on splitting her in two.

The sounds of their bodies colliding and voices in bliss flooded her ears.

Her breath shook. Her core burned inside and out as he worked her. Her voice cried his name.

As her toes curled and legs moved spastically, he groaned and gyrated his hips with less finesse as he spilled himself into her.

"Fuck," he panted.

His breath caressed her neck while he recovered from their destructive (yet therapeutic) session.

She took this moment to recollect herself as well. She ran her fingers through his hair before he lifted his head.

When they locked eyes, he took a deep breath. "You good? I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

"I'm fine. I would've let you know if I couldn't handle it." She chuckled. "Aside from my thighs yelling at me tomorrow, I should be fine."

"Good." He laughed, too. "We really went at it, didn't we?"

"Uh huh, but we needed it."

He responded with a brief, warm kiss on the lips. Once they parted, her lips pulled into a frown.

"Am I really cold?" she asked in a hushed voice.

He looked at her with regret. "Of course not. You're, like, the most fiery person I know. I just… said that because I was mad or whatever. And I'm sorry… about everything."

"It's okay, Jonesy. We really haven't argued in a minute, so we were bound to get into it about  _something_ , right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He offered a tiny grin, but his features dimmed again. "I really am gonna miss you on your trip, though."

"And I'm gonna miss you, too. But think about it like this: it's only for two weeks, and I'll be back before you know it."

"Okay."

"Hey, maybe soon we can go on a weekend trip, just me and you. And, if we have a smaller reception, we can go all out for our honeymoon."

His lips curled into a radiant smile and his fingertips traced the edge of her face, awakening the dormant butterflies in her stomach. "I'd love that, babe."

"I love you, Jonesy."

"Love you too, Nik."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss, slow and deliberate. She draped her arms across his back as she settled into it. Despite their relationship having its turbulent moments, she appreciated when it eased back into a calm state. No longer did fire roar in her belly. Rather, she felt warm and comfortable.

When they parted, she gave him a look of bliss. "I know we already worked some things out on this couch, but… I really want you again."

"Oh, good, I thought I was the only one."

"Not in the slightest. I just want to go slow."

"I can do slow." He pressed kisses against her shoulder before trailing his lips down her chest. "Anything for you, babe."

She giggled as he ran his tongue along her bosom. "Mmm, in that case, you're making me dinner afterwards."

He lifted his head. "Damn, I should've said that differently."

She smirked. "Too late, Garcia. You said  _anything_."

"Fine," he conceded with a playful eye-roll.

"Great. Now, where were we?"

He appeared impish. "I believe I was doing this," he said before gently sucking on her nipple, later turning into slow, languid love on the couch.

This was a love worth having—all aspects of it.


	15. solo together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, this was fun to write. I don’t always write from Jonesy’s perspective, but it’s actually really interesting to do. I wanted to write the ways in which he adores Nikki, so this is the result of that.

" _Fuck_ , I wanna fuck you so bad," Jonesy said while tugging his girlfriend's sweatpants down her thick, pale legs. "Like,  _really_  fuck you." Not only did she lack a bra beneath her t-shirt, but she also lacked shame as she'd sucked on his neck while rubbing him through his boxers. He feared the sight of blood, but loved it when it rushed to the right place. As he stripped her of her panties, he further asserted, "I'm gonna blow your fucking back out."

"Mmm, is that a promise?" she asked, eyeing him as he removed the skimpy fabric from her legs.

She tantalized him without trying. Back in his "slutty days,"—as Nikki chose to call it—he'd hooked up with girls that made the effort to be perceived as sexy. They would bite their lips while looking directly into his eyes, opt for revealing clothing, toss their hair to the side, or flutter their eyelashes at him. No matter what, he still found the girls in question to be hot, but Nikki didn't do any of that. She didn't try to be sexy, yet she oozed sex appeal. Through being direct about what she wanted and how she wanted it, she cultivated her own appeal. Her penchant for remaining sarcastic, bold, and crude made him recognize her as the sexiest person he'd ever encountered.

"Hell yeah, baby," he said—a variant of what he wanted her to be yelling to the heavens. Her parents were away for the weekend, so they could get as loud as their bodies desired.

"Good," she replied as she snaked her hands from his back to his boxers.

She started to pull them down and he finished the task for her, kicking them from around his ankles and tossing them onto the carpet.

She gently pushed his chest, prompting him to sit upright. She did the same so she could rid herself of her t-shirt.

He ogled her breasts, fantasizing about how they'd gyrate up and down and up and down when  _he_  put it down. They were a sight to behold. " _Mmm_."

His eyes wandered over her soft, chubby abdomen. He loved the way her skin folded there. It was—dare he suggested— _cute_. He then studied her alabaster thighs, fantasizing about them straddling his face. At the thought of her crooning for him while his tongue enthralled her, a huge smile engulfed his lips.

"So, are you gonna keep staring at me,  _or_  are you gonna fuck me senseless?"

Damn, he loved it when she talked reckless. He sat her in his lap and said, "I could stare at you all day, baby, but I'm gonna go with that second thing."

She gave him a sly grin. "As you should."

Her lips pressed against his, resulting in a fiery kiss. His tongue didn't hesitate to flicker against her lips. Her mouth parted for him without question, allowing him to revel in the warmth and wetness of her mouth. He knew the same conditions existed between her legs.

He felt her hand leave the back of his neck and reach down between their bodies, coaxing a prolonged moan from him.

She parted from his lips, murmuring, "Having fun?"

" _Oh, yeah_ … but I don't think I'm gonna last long if you keep it up."

Per his statement, she chuckled and let go of him. "Then why waste time?" She reached over to her nightstand drawer, rifling through its contents for a solid, agonizing minute. " _Shit_."

"What?" he asked, seeing the burning frustration on her face.

"I'm out of condoms."

His brow furrowed. "Did you double-check?"

"Of  _course_  I double-checked. I'm completely out, and I take it you didn't bring any either."

"Nope." He'd gotten so used to her stash of condoms that he never brought any when he spent the night with her.

She rested against her pillows and headboard, huffing in discontent. " _Great_."

_Great_ , indeed. This wasn't how he foresaw the night going. By now, he should've been rearranging her guts, not sitting in near-silence with the world's fiercest boner.

"Can't we just do it without one this  _one_  time? You're on the shot, babe."

"Yeah, I'm not taking that risk, Jones. Let's not tempt fate."

He hated when she was right; it made him feel dumb for asking. He frowned and looked off to the side.

She placed a consoling palm on his cheek, drawing his attention again.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft and alluring all at once, "how about we try something new?"

"Like what? 69?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, what do you wanna do?"

"I was thinking we could maybe, you know, touch ourselves together."

"What? Like, both of us jacking off together or something?"

"Basically."

"Hmm…" he mused, considering such a possibility. He enjoyed touching himself while thinking of her, so doing it with her beside him wasn't such a bad idea (even though he wanted to rail her so hard that she couldn't walk straight for days). A devilish smirk overtook his lips. "That sounds pretty hot, babe."

"Glad you think so."

Despite the flirtatious remarks and initial openness to the idea, the next moments remained silent. His eyes lingered on her far longer than intended, as did hers on him.

"So," he said, "is this a ladies-first kinda thing, or am I gonna have to take the lead on this one?"

"You know, I didn't quite work out all the details of this."

After a beat, they both chuckled together. For them to be vocal and unabashed when it came to having sex, neither of them knew how to be solo together.

"I guess I'll be the brave one," she said.

Her eyes flickered down, watching as her own hand slid down her own body.

He looked with intent.

When her fingers stopped and lingered where her thighs met, she met his gaze, deliberately encircling the spot he loved to toy with.

A soft moan rose from her throat.

She really  _did_  make sexiness appear effortless.

On the contrary, he made his horniness obvious by grabbing at his groin with quickness.

"You're so fucking hot," he uttered in a husky voice as he watched the way she moved.

"Trying to flatter me, Casanova?"

"I mean it, babe. You're just so confident and sexy, and I'm like, 'Damn, this girl is all  _mine_.'"

After he shut his eyes and groaned, he opened them to find Nikki's face flushed. It astounded him that dirty talk and other vulgarities earned a response from her, but the simplest of compliments left her speechless and blushing.

When she met his boyish gawk, the redness of her cheeks didn't let up.

Her breathy giggle and utterance of his name left him inebriated.

"Say my name again," he said, drunk on her demeanor.

" _Jonesy_."

"Just like that," he purred.

She lowered onto her back, drew her legs apart, and dipped her fingers between—continuing to captivate him.

She curled the index finger of her free hand in a come-hither motion, urging, "Come closer, Jones."

_Something's coming, alright_ , he thought to himself with a smirk.

Nevertheless, at her behest, he kneeled in front of her and continued to stroke. He witnessed her unoccupied hand ghost over to her breast, pinching its peak and circling around. A loud whimper fell from her mouth.

"Close?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, her faltering tone indicating that her head rolled around in the clouds.

"Same."

The way her chest gently bounced, movements unraveled, legs trembled, and voice cooed all transfixed him. He adored the various sounds she made when intimate. She whimpered while he entered, encouraged him through breathy croons, and pushed him into the abyss as her voice soared in volume. While he appreciated her loud, unabashed moans, something about her voice in its soft state mesmerized him.

Given her natural state of aggression and brazenness, her tender moments were a sight to behold. He witnessed her with skin flushed, lips swollen, hair tousled, and eyes dazed. He lived to hear his name mewled with desire.

" _Fuck_ , I love you," Jonesy groaned before gripping himself tight, tilting his head back, and releasing onto her.

Amid his heavy breathing and black vision, he heard her peaking and felt the comforter shift with the weight of her movements. When he opened his eyes moments later, he caught her catching her breath and recovering.

She met his warm gaze and gave him a small grin. "I fucking love you, too."

His heart skipped a beat.

 


End file.
